


A Four Letter Word for Love is Wall

by Xray1209



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Fluff, Hate to Love, Keith also got some angst, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Keith is a cryptid writer, Keith is still in the closet, Lance is bisexual, Langst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, blind date au, he is a precious bi baby, its a french film, keith is gay, klance, pianist!Lance, side Shatt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9809960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xray1209/pseuds/Xray1209
Summary: "What do you mean you can hear everything I do?" Lance was close to shouting at the wall now, staring at the painting like it was a person."Well for one your piano playing is better than your Beyoncé." Keith shouted back from his side and if he could see Lance he'd know how truly offended he was about that statement.----Imagine moving out on your own, you're stressed and already scared by the situation. Now add thinking your apartment is haunted when you already put money down for the month and signed on to stay for at least a year. Welcome to the start of Lance's new independent life where things just seem to get worse and worse.





	1. It's Definitely Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on a French film called Blind Date. There will be some similarities to the movie however there will be changes story and character wise. Everyone in this fic is 20 or older at the beginning of this story.

Hunk dropped the last three boxes on the simple black counter, "how are you going to cook in such a small kitchen? Like my mind is boggling and you hate using the microwave. Not to mention you don't even have one."

"I'll figure it out, I've got a fridge, a stove, and an oven. Not much more you really need." Lance said as he opened one of the boxes; starting to put pots and pans away that his mother had given him. He tossed one of the pans in his hand by the handle, remembering his mother's words, _you can't make yourself a proper home unless you can cook comfortably in it._

"I mean besides you know actual food," Hunk said as he scratched the back of his head, "Are you sure you're ready to move out?"

"Of course I am man, I'm ready for the full bachelor experience. Ladies are going to love this pad." Lance jumped up on his feet, his teeth glistening as he smiled and crossed his arms.

Hunk chuckled, putting a hand on Lance's shoulder, "I have full faith in you dude."

"I finished setting up the wifi, where should I write down the password?" Pidge asked as they walked over, stretching their tiny arms into the air.

"On my arm." Lance said, going as far as to pull up his blue sleeve to reveal his tan brown skin.

Pidge narrowed their brown eyes, walking past the lanky man, "I'll put it on the fridge."

"That works too I guess," Lance shrugged.

"So what are your plans for the rest of the day buddy?" Hunk asked him as he cracked his fingers.

"I was probably going to practice for a bit after unpacking."

"Oh right you have a competition coming up finally, on a scale of one to ten how scared are you to fuck up?" Pidge asked as they pushed themselves up on the kitchen counter.

"Pidge we're not supposed to talk about it," Hunk said, leaning down towards them, "we could jinx it."

Pidge pushed up their glasses, "that's if we say he'll win, which we haven't said at all. Besides I was just teasing, Lance will do great."

Lance laughed slightly trying to shed the uncomfortable air around him, "you know me guys; they'll probably see this handsome face and give me first place on the spot."

"There's that cockiness we all know and love." Hunk put his arm around Lance, causing them to both duck down a bit, but Lance's fingers were twitching with nerves at the pure thought of getting on the stage again. They hadn't been there for the major fuck up of his life, they didn't see the disappointment that had been in everyone's eyes when he choked in front of hundreds of people.

Lance couldn't even believe he had kept up with the piano as long as he had.

"So how are you going to pay for this place?" Pidge asked, looking around at the high ceilings and the open space. It wasn't a big apartment but, it had a nice view and a fair amount of space, with what money Lance had this had to be towards the end of his budget.

"Lessons, the place is actually pretty cheap. Apparently they can never get anyone to rent it out longer than a week."

"Well you know what that means." Pidge smirked.

"What?" Hunk and Lance both perked, an alertness in both their eyes.

"That its haunted." Pidge waved their fingers in the air, their back hunched forward.

"Hey--"

Lance jumped up as the one of the movers grabbed his shoulder, Pidge, was already howling with laughter.

"Sorry, yeah?"

"The piano is set up," the man said and Lance handed him the money he had set aside for him.

"Thanks," Lance told him and after the man counted his money he was out the door with his buddy.

Lance glanced at his piano, it was scratched up with age and wear, and was now sat near a wide window that was barely covered by light grey curtains. It was a golden tan; not a dark brown or black like many professional pianos but, this one was his and with it was all of Lance's memories from learning chopsticks to Beethoven's 5th. Of course there was also the stricter memories, ones that weren't as pleasant.

"Man your piano takes up half the apartment. Why not get yourself a television instead, then at least we could hang out here and watch tv."

"Well Pidge when you get your own apartment you can decide what goes in it. But no worries, Lance the man is already on the case."

"Until then we'll be seeing you." Pidge pushed themselves off the counter.

"I mean we'll still be hanging out with you bud but, we don't want to crowd your living room. Oh, you're still coming out tonight with us later right?"

"Of course, you know me, I'll just finish setting up the crib and then I'll meet you guys there."

"Alright see you then." Pidge and Hunk waved goodbye, closing the door and leaving Lance in silence.  
For how stuffed his apartment was it sure did feel empty now.

* * *

Keith came home from Shiro's house at a late hour. He would have been back sooner but they had got to talking about what Keith was going to do with his life. Which wasn't heavily weighing on Keith's mind but for Shiro it was a big deal. He wanted Keith to do more with his life and try and enjoy it, but it had only come off to Keith like Shiro thought he wasn't doing _anything_. Needless to say, it had all given Keith an aggressive headache which only doubled when he heard another door shut that wasn't from his apartment.

_No, no not again! Already?_

He tilted his head back and then started to move about his apartment with the utmost stealth. He opened with great care his laptop and thanked the lord that he had left it on so it didn't make that obscene Windows noise. Keith went into his playlist of haunting noises and plugged in his speakers, turning the speakers up themselves all the way while keeping the computer volume low. Letting the light static and creaks fill the air.

"Hello?" Lance's voice pervaded the wall and Keith appreciated it for a moment before continuing.

He turned it up just a bit and went to the painting rig he had for the other apartment, a thin metal bar that he could twist so he could turn the painting hung in the middle of his wall. The creaking turned into soft eerie moans, getting louder and louder as Keith moved the painting of the ship on the other side of the thin wall.

"Nope!" Lance yelled before slamming the door of the apartment.

Keith started laughing as he released the rig and replaced the eerie moans with some techno music that was heavy with beats. Well at least now he had the whole night ahead of him and he didn't have to try and sneak around the apartment. He had hope that this guy would leave a lot faster than the people before him, especially since this one ran out on the first night and didn't suspect a single thing.


	2. So Not a ghost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter. I figured I'd get it up sooner rather than later. Let me know what you guys think! Also I haven't really looked over it carefully yet so there's probably mistakes here and there. Also brief nsfw like one sentence.

"Look Hunk I'm not crazy, I'm telling you the painting moved on its own. I can't make that up?" In the morning hours of a hangover even Lance didn't like the sound of his own voice.

"Look buddy if you're scared--"

"I'm not scared of moving out, Hunk geez. We've been over this, it was long overdue anyways."

"I know, I know I was just saying if you're scared of a ghost there are things you could do. I mean I for one wouldn't mess with some ghost but hey you're the one with the haunted apartment. You just, you know me and my family love you buddy but this place is too crowded for you to come over every night."

"Yeah, I get it. It was a onetime thing, I'm sure it was just first night jitters."

"I'm sure but if it isn't definitely get some sage and burn it in your apartment. Just make sure if you're stuck with something it isn't violent, like I don't want to come over and find you sprawled out on the floor in a broken mess. Definitely not how I want to spend my Saturday."

Lance sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "thanks Hunk for that lovely imagery… I'm going to head to the shower, I'll talk to you later buddy."

"See ya."

Lance clicked off his phone and looked about his apartment again, did he even buy any towels yet? He really hoped so, he didn't really feel like drying off with a bunch of paper towels. He opened a few boxes and found it under his bathroom supplies from home and under it he saw his old stuffed lion. Blue had been a companion like no other when he was younger, they went through everything together and often she was with him through every fight his parents had. Blue had always made him feel better.

His mom probably snuck her in while he wasn't looking. The old stuffed animal had barely left his closet the past five years, only coming out when he wanted to be reminded of better years.

Now maybe he could get back to those happier times, not worrying about a divorce or if he was good enough. Not to mention here he wouldn't be blamed for fights and have to sit with people who didn't look at him. He put down the lion and went to the bathroom trying to throw away those thoughts, letting them fade in his head like shooting stars.

Keith's eyebrow twitched as he heard the water turn on in the other apartment, his headache had come back and now was worse than ever. He walked to the cabinet, not weary of his steps as he took 4 Advil to try and put the fuzzy feeling away in his head. He already knew that he had to be ready to start his haunting by the time his _neighbor_ came out of the shower. So he set up and waited quietly with a book for the water to turn off and for the absolutely wretched singing to stop.

He didn't realize a pop song could be butchered so thoroughly. But as Lance took longer and longer in the shower Keith got more and more bored and simply started to work on his writing. Marking up his white board with plot ideas for his next horror story. The last one he had written had already slowed in royalties and his publisher already wanted the manuscript. Well he wanted the manuscript yesterday, Allura was like that and Coran had begged for it to be done sooner rather than later. But Keith, well he didn't want to cater to what everyone else wanted of him. He wanted to move on to some other genre, as much fun as it was to write about cryptids there were only so many tales that he could tell without it being too close to the X-Files.

He had gotten reviews already that his last story about Mothman was closer to a Scooby-Doo mystery than it was like his other works. That had really hit his ego.

Allura didn't even dare to try and bring those reviews up.

After thirty minutes of painful singing(that Keith was no longer listening too, thank you headphones) there was finally a bit of silence and Keith got up to get ready for the second showing of haunted pirates in your painting.

But then he heard one piano key.

_No._

And then another.

_Fuck please no._

Then the bench scratched loudly against the hardwood and the random piano keys started to make a melody. It wasn't anything that Keith knew and it was slightly aggressive in nature but smoothed out like peanut butter being spread on bread.

Keith quickly gave up and fell into his bed, burying his face into his pillow. At least he wasn't bad, it was soothing to listen to after awhile and didn't have any singing to accompany it. Keith closed his eyes, falling into the notes he was hearing noticing how strained they seemed.

Then suddenly there was a mash of keys, disrupting the flow of air like a crash of waves against a cliff during a rough storm. It was the kind of noise that sounded like wood breaking.

"Damn it!" Lance slammed down the cover for the keys, rubbing his head hard while gritting his teeth. He quickly fell into muttering insults at himself about how he couldn't play something so simple right. He paced around the apartment, turning toward the painting as he heard the creak of Keith's bed.

Keith winced, he had only sat up because of the noises, his heart going crazy as he felt the anxiety bleed through the walls. In any other situation he would have asked if they were okay. Instead he took advantage, feeling rotten for doing so but he wanted to be left alone. He didn't want to get attached or be attached to, he just wanted the silence back.

"I can't deal with this right now." Lance stomped over to the painting and grabbed it by the frame, pulling hard on it.

"FUCK." Keith let out, his fingers getting smashed and then quickly released as Lance fell back against the floor, staring up at the painting like it had been the thing that spoke.

"I'm sorry mr. ghost? Please don't kill me."

"I'm not a fucking ghost idiot, I'm your neighbor, fuck man." Keith kept shaking his hand in the air, it still burned from being pinched between the wall and the metal bar. Honestly though Keith had been surprised that no one had done it before.

"My neighbor?"

"Yeah and I can hear everything you do."

"What do you mean you can hear everything I do?" Lance was close to shouting at the wall now, staring at the painting like it was a person.

"Well for one you're piano playing is better than your Beyoncé." Keith shouted back from his side and if he could see Lance he'd know how truly offended he was about that statement.

"The wall is that thin?"

"Yeah it’s a weird architectural error that happened when they built our buildings. Our walls are right next to each other and well there's nothing blocking the sound but drywall and cement."

"Can't we call someone?"

"Tried that, but my land lord will say it's your buildings problem and vice versa."

"This is bullshit…"

"Yup, so since _I_ was here first and think it's only fair that you be the one to leave."

"Leave? Why can't we just work something out? You know like a schedule--"

"No way, you either leave or I'll _make_ you leave."

"Oh buddy if you think you're going to get me to leave you got another thing coming… _buddy_." Lance had to say something aggressively, he couldn't let this guy, whoever he was, win. He could tell this guy was an asshole and he wasn't going to get scared out of his apartment by nobody.

"Don't call me buddy."

"Why don't you _make_ me, buddy." Lance mocked.

Keith couldn't believe this guy, he was giving him another headache, "hope you like all nighters."

"Same to you buddy."

Keith just yelled at the wall at that point, there was just something so passive aggressive about the word buddy that he just had to yell incoherently at the wall to get it out of his system. The guy was too infuriating; why couldn't he just leave him alone?

Though, he supposed if this guy wanted war he'd get it.

* * *

Lance had _begged_ Pidge for their headphones and now that he had them he felt like they just didn’t work. He could still hear _everything_ , the fucking guy left his garbage disposal on all afternoon. But alas, Lance had to make and take calls from mothers of small children to try and get more lessons to do for extra cash.

And of course Keith had caught on to job calls and went to his laptop. He went through page after page until he found the perfect video. He turned it up and sat back."

" _Oh daddy, fuck me with your big cock daddy please."_

Lance choked on his own spit before he could run out of the apartment, covering the receiver while still sounding like nothing was wrong.

Really he had been halfway to a heart attack and the poor woman was very concerned for Lance's safety. Oh but Lance was going to get him good this time, it wouldn't be like when he left his hair dryer on, oh no, it was going to be so much worse than that.

"Hah, a metronome? You got to be kidding me?" Keith mocked but Lance had the slyest smile on. Lance knew better than anyone what constant metronome could do to your head.

All day it was a constant and slow tick. About three hours in Keith started to notice his own pace. Six hours in he started counting the ticks like they were dance steps. Eventually he put headphones on and put on music but still he heard the ticking, it was in the beats and his thoughts and the way people said words.

"Okay, stop it, stop it. You win, I give, let's make a schedule." Keith sat up at 3 am in his bed and with this the ticking stopped.

"Glad you've finally come to your senses," Lance yawned as he got up and got out a sheet of paper.

"Why don't we switch off every six hours… Starting six am tomorrow so I can at least get some sleep."

"You can have six am, I'll take noon."

"Fine by me, just please, _please_ shut up."

"Alright," Lance said, tapping his fingers on his chest before turning away from the wall, "goodnight."

Keith didn't answer, he just curled up with his blankets, his head barely poking out as he closed his eyes. He couldn't get Lance's voice out of his head, let alone the piano notes.


	3. The Facts of Life

The schedule was something they both had to get used to fast. For Lance it was easy, he had siblings and he knew what quiet time meant. So he spent Keith's time practicing on matte keyboard, reading, or even sometimes just went out.

For Keith it had been a challenge like no other. He didn't know if Lance was sensitive to noise or what, but he couldn't even write on his laptop before Lance would set off alarms on his piano(which was an annoying sound of two high keys being pressed in quick succession).

So Keith had gone back to the archaic days of pen on paper and upgraded his chalkboard full of notes to a whiteboard. However his daily chores, they had been postponed and his room was already a mess. He could already hear Shiro scolding him about it, God he should probably go see him. It had been awhile but, well the motivation to see someone who was a heavy weight on your shoulder as it is, was never something that anyone wanted to deal with.

Keith flipped over in the bed, he'd have to wait until Lance was done to even get out of bed. At least they were a few minutes before his time started. Lance had actually practiced during the late hours of the night which didn't bother Keith much, he didn't play anything radical. In fact they had all been soft tracks, and Keith would know if anything different had played, he was too light of a sleeper to not wake up. Sometimes the silence of a room could wake him.

Lance yawned loudly and missed a few keys, disrupting the air.

"Go to bed." Keith told him, it _was_ almost six am after all.

"I'm fine." Lance rubbed his eyes and sat up straight, he had to use the full extent of his time. There was plenty of time later to sleep before he had to go to his first lesson with Charlotte.

"Your time is almost up anyways, just go lay down. Last thing I need is for you to end up dead on the floor."

"It'd make your life easier wouldn't it?"

"Sure but then I'd get bothered by the police. Not something I'm really up to dealing with at the moment."

"Wouldn't want to be a bother," Lance rubbed his eyes before looking at the soft bed. God he would loved to get swallowed up the mattress, feel nice and cozy under blankets.

"Right… So go to bed."

"Fine but I'm not doing it because you told me too."

"Of course not." Keith smiled as he sat up in his bed, "I'm going to be going out so you won't have to deal with my music."

"You're going out? What did you run out of supplies to survive the winter?"

"I leave my apartment."

"Sure you do, I'm sure you just wait until I'm gone to leave. You haven't left your apartment once since we met, Hell I don't think you've even gotten your mail."

"I have so," though Keith had to admit he couldn't remember when he last left the apartment, "it just happened before we officially met."

"Oh so while you were still haunting me you left your apartment. Hard to believe, I would've thought I'd heard you."

"Well I missed your move in at least, I don't know how long you had been moved in though. I kind of just got back from a research trip." Keith scratched his head, then taking a second to feel his hair. Should he wash his hair? He doubted Shiro would notice a little bit of grease.

"Oh a research trip huh? For what, how to hibernate?"

"Will you stop with the bear jokes? I went camping in Yellowstone to research for my novel."

"Novel? Wait you actually write like novels? Are you famous? Don't tell me you're like Neil Gaiman or something."

"No, less popular. Honestly my books tend to only find their ways to airports and corner stores."

"So you're small time. So I won't like find an interview or something, you haven't met Ellen or anything right."

"No and I use a pen name so good luck finding my books."

"Dude I don't even know your actual name."

"That's probably for the best, I mean there's no reason for us to be friends." The alarm that meant the start of Keith's time went off and with it Keith jumped out of bed.

"Right… Have a good day then whosit." Lance laid down on the bed, curling up and holding his pillow.

* * *

Keith sat across from Shiro, vaguely listening to his older brothers speech about looking out for his well being.

"…Allura told me you even missed your deadline."

"I know that," a piece egg slipped off his fork before he put it down on the plate with a clatter, "I'm working on it and I sent in a draft of half the book last night."

"Well don't you want to, I don't know, do more with your life? I mean what about going back to school?"

"No school is going to want a high school dropout, let alone one that got kicked out of the ROTC. We've been over this Shiro."

"I just don't think you're taking a good look at your options is all. You can get your GED and then go to community college, or trade school. You just… Right now you seem--"

"What? Miserable? It's probably because I can't have one conversation with my brother about anything without it going back to what I want to do with my life. I'm twenty-two Shiro, I don't need you to counsel me through everything."

"I know but," Shiro started again. Keith hated this, he just wanted Shiro to give up on it already. It was Keith's own fault for being in this situation, he shouldn't worry about it, "just think about it. Maybe studying some will get you over your writers block."

"Shiro I write conspiracy sci-fi, reading about the Civil War isn't going to help me."

"Maybe it's time to write something else," Shiro shrugged as he leaned back, the metal of his prosthetic lightly tapping the coffee cup.

"Next you'll tell me I need to try my hand at teen romance books."

"You got the look for it." Shiro chuckled remarking mainly about the mullet that Keith had pulled into a ponytail at the moment.

"I don't want to hear that from you." Keith sighed, he still had barely touched his food besides to play with it. Keith bit his lip as he leaned over his plate, "so uh, how's physical therapy going?"

"Good, I'm getting better at using this old thing."

"Does it hurt still?"

"Keith, don't worry about it."

Keith looked off to the side as he leaned back, "I gotta go… Need to run some errands and work on the rest of the draft."

"Alright," Shiro smiled. Keith got out his wallet, "don't worry about it, I'll pick up the tab."

"Shiro I'm the one who invited you out, besides I didn't really even eat."

"It's fine, you have to go anyways. You can do it next time."

"Fine but you better let me." Keith gave in, he knew there was no point in fighting Shiro. He was going to get his way no matter how much Keith fought him on it. It was honestly the most frustrating thing about Shiro, right next to being too nice for his own good.

* * *

Lance, as he heard the door unlock, wiped his tears and put his pillow over Blue. He had had a moment of weakness, that was all. He wasn't lonely, he didn't feel worthless. No, it was certainly none of those things.

"Welcome back," Lance croaked out, disgusted by how his voice sounded in the air.

"Thanks…"

Great now Lance was sure that this guy hated him too. But why did Lance care, they didn't know each other, as far as they both were concerned the other was a burden. Burden, Lance hated that word, he hated how much he attached himself to the word and let it drag him far down.

"I'm surprised you aren't playing."

"Huh?-- Oh yeah, I was but I needed to take a break. My hands were cramping up a bit."

"It's probably because you're too stiff."

"What?" Lance let his knees drop down, looking back at the wall.

"Yeah, I mean don't get me wrong, you play great but you're too technically perfect. There's no feeling in it."

"What makes you an expert?"

"I'm not saying I'm an… You know what, never mind."

"No, say it."

"You can make a mistake you know, it's just practice. The point is to get better not perfect, try playing a different song."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know music isn't all just playing the right notes," Keith put in. I mean come on, he wasn't stupid, "I mean to me it sounds like you're playing because you have too, not because you enjoy it."

"I do enjoy it."

"Could have fooled me, every time you play it sounds like a chore. You play through it."

"That's what you're supposed to do! You play the song the way it's supposed to be played, there is no other way." Lance could hear his instructors voice push out of him.

"That's sad."

Lance had to admit it was, after all he was sad. He didn't know what was wrong with him, he did love piano playing but now it was… A hassle. In fact, a lot of things he enjoyed were just that to him now.

That fact, there was nothing sadder than that.

"Nobody asked you." Lance was scratching the palm of his hand now, hard, the slight pain staying and fading as fast as his eyes closed to darkness.

"Listen--"

Lance shushed him as he got up from the bed, it was his turn now. If he wanted silence by God was he going to get it. If only the voices in his head got the same memo.

Keith waited, slowly going through his apartment, going for a glass of water before sitting down at the table. He scratched his head, was he really this bad when talking with people?

The piano started going then, a few keys of the usual song. Mozart no doubt, it was a complex piece for sure, something that could truly express Lance's technical skill. As the strokes got more complex the more frigid his fingers got, he lost pace and then his fingers slipped to the wrong keys. He had to stop, holding his hands into tight fists.

Keith had let a small sigh escape his lips as boredom over took him, he was barely paying attention to what Lance was doing until he heard the wood cover for the keys slam closed. It made his heart jump.

Lance bit his lip hard, trying to keep the prying thoughts away. Maybe he should give up. He was no good at this. He should just quit and go back home. At least there he could revel in his mediocrity in peace, there wouldn't be so much pressure. They wouldn't care if he was bad, Hell they didn't even care he was good.

"Hey uh, are you alright?"

"Just please leave me alone." Lance didn't want to hear from him, the voice, that stupid mocking voice. He didn't need this hit of reality, he didn't need to know that he wasn't good at anything not even the thing he loves. If he can't do this than everyone was always right about him. He was no good and it hurt.


	4. Whosit, meet Whatsit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Lance plays in this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2bx66RJ1m94  
> Hope you enjoy!

Lance hadn't touched the piano for two days. During his allotted time he either blasted music or watched movies on his laptop. Of course there were times of pure silence, where everything was so still that tapping your fingers could be too loud. There was only so much silence Keith could bare, especially since he felt responsible.

"Don't you want to play?" Keith asked, putting his fingers to his lips slightly, surprised he was as loud as he was. Though, he was sure that it was partly due to the heavy silence that he felt so loud.

Lance's bed creaked as he turned over, he didn't say anything and kept his eyes closed. If he slept he could keep the thoughts out. He could keep everything out if just receded into his dreams, he could pretend to be at the beach, feel the waves wash over his toes pulling him further and further out until he was floating on his back, staring up at a clear blue sky that could've been the ocean for all he knew.

"No? Well what about cooking while listen to music?" Keith suggested, honestly anything was better than this silence. He could even bare to hear Lance sing Beyonce as long as he sounded happy.

"Just leave me alone." He flipped over again; there was no receding this time. He was too close to someone, even if there was a wall between them.

"Look I'm sorry if I said something wrong, I was just trying to be honest. Though I'm sure I was a bit too… brash."

"For a writer you're not very good at explaining yourself."

"Writing something down is a lot easier than explaining something out loud and on the spot."

Lance sat up on the bed and rolled his shoulders. He brought up his knees and scratched his head, "why don't you read me something you wrote?"

"What? No way, you don't want to hear any of that stuff. It's pretty bad and rough." Keith turned away from the wall, biting his thumb.

"If I recall correctly that sounds like a great description for my piano playing."

"What are you talking about? You're playing is great."

"You say it was stiff or frigid, or whatever. Those aren't exactly compliments you know."

Keith sighed, "well I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off like that. Just please, feel better?"

Keith could hardly admit that he hated the silence, that he had gotten used to Lance and didn't mind hearing his hums half the time. Keith especially couldn't admit that he enjoyed the sound of Lance's voice and he walked around the apartment and closed doors with the delicacy of a fluttering butterfly. Those were feelings that Keith didn't like in general, he could barely admit it to himself let alone Lance.

"Why do you care all of a sudden? Huh? You're successful and have your own life, think about yourself. You shouldn't worry about me." Lance put his head down. What would his family say if they heard him? They would keep bugging him surely, reminding him he was special to them and that they would always love him. Which was a nice thought but he could see the frustration in their eyes, how they pitied him, how they knew that he only dragged them down.

"I just think it would be really sad if I never heard you play again." Keith told him and it was only easy to do because he couldn't see Lance, he couldn't see his reaction and could only imagine how he must have lifted his head in shock, eyes blinking with increased emphasis, and then his hand going against the wall.

Keith had put the tip of his fingers there, wondering if Lance was even trying to find what he looked like in his head. If Lance wondered as much as he did about how Keith looked, if he was handsome and if his hand would fit perfect with his.

Those thoughts were the most troubling and Keith wanted to swat them away.

Lance let out a small laugh, falling into it more and more as he loosened, "that was so cheesy dude. If I didn't know any better I'd say we were in some romcom."

"Shut up," Keith stuttered, his cheeks going as pink as his lips as he bit it.

"If you wanted me to serenade you so badly you should have just asked sooner whosit." Lance said as got up and went to the piano. It was easy for Lance to shove most of his feelings aside, he was used to it. He didn't want people to feel like he did or to know how affected he was by them.

"I don't want you to _serenade_ me."

"I could sing for you too if you want, have any requests?"

"Oh so now you're a walking piano playing Youtube?"

"I try."

"How about John Fields?" Keith couldn't think of a song, he didn't know piano well. He knew names, but only the ones he overheard Lance say.

Lance chuckled, making Keith's heart inflate like a balloon, "you don't have a song?"

"Play your favorite."

"My favorite huh? Hm," Lance pondered on it but found himself wondering what song Keith would like that he could play well.

Before he realized it, Lance set his hands up and started playing _Nocturne No 2 in C minor_. His long slender fingers pressing key after key all on their own and he felt himself going with the music, letting himself feel how hard he pressed the keys.

Keith had kept his eyes closed, leaning against the dirty counter piled with dishes. The song was sad he felt, and the music rushed around him like a brisk winter wind before snow would start to fall. A very light, almost white, blue.

As they keys pressed more together there was more of a rush and a flow and everything felt nice. To Lance the music was like a garden of roses as fall approached, wind pushing and pulling at petals and leafs as they were carried away and swept around, falling into puddles and sticking to shoes as black as night.

Lance remembered how beautiful music could be.

And then it stopped.

Lance's breath went deep, tears coming to the tips of his eyes. For some reason Keith felt it too, and was more confused than Lance.

Keith went closer to the wall, putting his hand against it, "could you play it again?"

Without saying anything Lance started playing it again.

The scene's replayed like they had just been rewound but every time they meshed more and more with one another; mixing like paint.

By the fifth occurrence, Keith was sitting on his floor, his back against the wall.

Lance stopped playing after awhile and found a place on the floor as well, mirroring Keith without meaning too.

"Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me?" Keith asked him.

"No reason I guess."

"Would you mind if I asked you something?"

"Go ahead."

"What do you… What do you look like exactly? Or is that weird?"

"I'm surprised you're curious. I'll answer if you do, whosit."

"My name is Keith by the way, you don't have to calling me whosit, whatsit."

Lance laughed, "Nice to meet you Keith, I'm Lance. I'm tall, dark, and handsome as Hell."

Keith laughed now at him, "nice to meet you."

"So? Tell me what you look like now."

"Oh," Keith sat up, nervous. He found himself wondering what Lance would want him to look like. But he shook his head, it wasn't that important, "I'm short…"

"And? What's your hair color, what distinguishes you from everyone else."

"I have black hair… and I wear…" Keith wondered what a stand out feature would be but nothing that was the truth stood out, "cowboy boots?"

Lance cackled, "cowboy boots! What are you sixty?"

"I'm not sixty, God I'm only twenty-two."

"No way so am I, this is too real. And to think when I moved in I thought you were the ghost of an old pirate."

"Hardy har."

"So when I'm not playing piano what are you working on?"

"Just my next book."

"Oh? And what is it about?"

"What so you can find my other books? No way."

"What come on, I'm curious."

"You also want to know what I look like."

"Why on Earth would I want to know what a jerk face looks like?" Lance crossed his arms and pouted.

"I don't know, why do you want to?"

"You can't tell me you aren't curious at all."

"Not really." He was, but he was never going to admit such a thing, especially not to Lance's… wall.

"Then why did you ask? We've only talked for ten minutes and already you've lied to me."

"I just think it's better if we don't meet outside of here."

"Why's that?" Lance's mind rattled with questions.

"I just don't want to, can you just promise me you won't ask me again?"

"…Sure I guess, whatever you want."

They sat there for awhile after, Keith letting Lance go on and on about whatever. He only putting his two sense in when he felt it would be necessary or when he thought he could get a good laugh from it. Truth was Lance was a funny guy but Keith couldn't get the thought of him being sad out of his mind. What would happen to Lance if he was left alone?

Keith hated how concerned he was about him, they didn't know each other at all. Yet Keith kept looking at the wall behind him like Lance was going to be there, his back relaxed as he leaned back on his hands even when Keith leaned back against him.

Somehow they knew that even though there was a wall between them there was still an understanding and a type of support. One without pretenses and didn't hang over you and weigh you down.

"Hey whatsit." Keith said as he held his knees.

"Hm?" Lance's eyes were closed as he leaned against the wall. He was almost unresponsive.

"Go to bed."

"But I want to keep talking." Lance said, and Keith's heart was shot with adrenaline. It was just a thing to say, he knew that but Lance wanted to keep talking with him.

"You've haven't said a word for ten minutes now, go to bed."

"Only if you do too." Lance grumbled and rubbed his eyes.

"Fine." Keith got up but he didn't hear a similar sound come from the other apartment, " _Lance_."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Lance sighed as he got up and walked a few steps before falling on his bed.

Keith jumped on his bed second but instead of going to bed he figured he'd get some reading done.

"Hey Keith."

"What is it now?"

"Sleep well."

"You too…" Keith let out, his throat catching a bit on the words.

Even though their beds weren't close at all, for some reason, it felt like they were right next to one another and if the simply flipped over they'd see the other.


	5. Ideals, Fears, and a Cat

Keith sat up that morning, the book he had been reading last night falling from his chest. He could hear the sizzling of a pan and though he breathed in deeply through his nose Keith couldn't smell anything even though he wanted too.

Lance hadn't heard him get up, the sound of the pan and his own hums distracting him from Keith's movement about the apartment.

Then his phone started going off, he slipped into the bathroom and answered.

"Good morning Keith." Allura said with an uncommon cheerful tone about her. Keith was already rubbing his forehead.

"Morning, what's up?"

"So to start off what you've sent--"

"It's not my best work I know, sorry."

"Oh Keith I wouldn't say it's  _bad_ , persay--"

"You know I hate it when you're delicate with me."

Allura sighed, "it's definitely the roughest thing you've sent me. Don't you have something else you're working on? It doesn't have to be the same sort of thing. You can do something more grounded if that will help."

"You want me to start from scratch?" Keith turned from the bathroom mirror to avoid staring himself in the eyes.

"Yes and I'm willing to give you an extension if you need it but I need a full rough draft by the end of December. That's the best I can do to keep the people upstairs happy."

"Alright I'll figure something out," Keith put a hand through his hair, "just don't tell my brother okay? I don't need him worrying about my deadlines."

"Of course, Shiro won't hear a word of it. And Keith I have  _one_  more, tiny little favor, to ask of you."

"What is it?"

"Well this morning I found a cat in the parking garage and well," Allura sighed as she looked around the office. It was an utter mess, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to take her in for awhile, by no means do you have to keep her, I just need to figure out a home and well my apartment doesn't allow pets."

"What makes you think mine does?"

"Well if you recall when you got that apartment I was the one who found it. It's just a few days Keith, I already have the food and the litter, you just have to keep an eye on her. So will you? You'll be doing me a huge favor."

"I guess," Keith rubbed his head. After everything Allura had done for him how could he say no? Besides it was just a measly cat. How much harm could a cat do?

Of course this was all before he was standing in Allura's office, staring at the red somali cat in the travel case that was already hissing at him. His eyes narrowed at the case, "this is the cat?"

"Yup, isn't she cute?"

"Sure… I guess once you get past the hostility."

"Almost reminds you of someone doesn't it?" Allure smiled and sighed trying to contain her laugh. She was surprised he showed up, asking Keith for a normal favor like buying lunch or lending a book she could see him accepting; but to accept so easily a cat? Well it didn't seem like him. Though she could definitely see it being an impulsive thing for him.

"Not really, what's her name?"

"Oh, well she didn't have a collar or anything but Coran and I have taken to calling her Red."

"Red huh? Not a lot of creativity going into that one." Keith said as he knelt down and slowly neared his hand towards the cage.

"Coran named her, I thought it was fitting. Either way she's your prob-- little adventure now. Maybe this will help you get inspired."

"Maybe…" Keith said but he doubted it, especially since the cat had now gotten bored of hissing and just laid itself in the corner as far as she could form the opening.

"I promise it will only be a few days. If you have any problems just call me."

"I will."

* * *

Lance left the apartment a bit after Keith, he had to go take the bus to make his next lesson up to the nicer neighborhood which Logan, another student of his, lived in. Logan's meetings were always the ones that gave Lance the most anxiety, mainly because the father sat in on the lessons. He would even put his two cents in from time to time when Lance was trying to explain the history of a song or composer.

Overall Lance felt sorry for Logan, he didn't look that old and was probably younger than he had been when he had started to learn how to play piano. The kid was also small in every aspect, the kind that kids at school would call a runt. And, the poor kid, he was nervous about messing up his notes. Lance knew it was because of the father, he probably got _conversations_ about his playing.

Lance hated those parents, the parents that couldn't let their kid just enjoy something, no they had to put their all in it, they had to stake their life on this precious skill that is only as good as a parlor trick.

Lance's parents, they weren't exactly like that. No they were more… easygoing, to Lance's credit it wouldn't be wrong to say they were mainly absent for him. They showed up at shows but they never made sure he practiced or bothered him much about it. At first Lance was proud of it, especially when he was young, but as he got older he got a new understanding of the situation.

_They don't love me enough to care._

There were times in high school where he purposefully slipped up with his school work. His parents just said, do the best you can.

This wasn't bad parenting, this wasn't their fault there had been a misunderstanding about this.

Lance knew it was all about him and his own problems. He knew there was something wrong with him. So he never let himself get to the point of asking them directly if they actually loved him or not. He just lived with the question, let it roll around in his stomach, collecting the thoughts and the lip movements of everything.

Then there were his siblings.

Don't even get Lance started on them.

Lance shook his head, he didn't want to think about family at all right now. He needed to get the lesson done and then meet up with Pidge and Matt so he could at least understand the sort of Chemistry that didn't have to do with flirting.

"Wait, hold up. You like this guy and you have no idea what he looks like?" Matt asked Lance, trying to wrap his head around it.

"I didn't know you could not be superficial." Pidge muttered as they mindlessly turned a page of their textbook. They hadn't done any work for at least a half hour now, and if Pidge knew their brother and Lance. Well, Pidge honestly didn't know why they all still called these study sessions.

"Hey, I take offense to that."

"When was the last time you even talked to a guy you weren't at least semi-attracted too."

"I'm talking to you right now." Lance said bitterly, sipping a frappe.

"First of all fuck you, second of all I'm hot as fuck and you know it, thirdly--"

"Matt we get it, you think you're hot shit, fuck." Pidge said as they put their head down to the book. They were getting such a headache.

Lance chuckled, trying to cover it up with his hand.

"And you, you know next to nothing about this guy yet you like him? What makes this Keith dude so different than any other dude? Do you even know if he could ever dig you like that?"

"Pidge you don't have to kick him in the heart." Matt said softly, he even felt a bit of Lance's pain.

"What it’s a valid point! Besides that guy could be lying about everything still. I mean who, in this day and age, writes novels for a living. Unlikely, and I doubt that even if he is writing published novels that he gets enough cash to live off of. Maybe he's a gigolo." Pidge exclaimed, slamming their hands on the textbook.

"He never leaves his apartment." Lance shot back like that was a solid argument.

"Maybe he takes slutty pictures, I don't know. All I'm saying is he's lying about something or you're lying about him existing. I mean you make it sound like he's perfect."

Lance looked to Matt; who, after pushing up his glasses, nodded slowly.

"Have you thought that maybe you're idealizing this guy a bit?"

"He's just…" Lance paused for a moment. _He's better in every way I'm not_. But he had no real evidence for that, "he's just nice."

"There's plenty of nice people out there, maybe try finding someone you can look at before putting all your feelings towards the guy beyond a wall?" Matt told him delicately, smiling as he patted Lance's hand.

* * *

The cat came with so many problems.

She had broken three glasses within the first five minutes and wouldn't allow herself to be so much as seen by Keith. Her name should have been Blur because that's all Keith saw after he opened that damn cage. Keith didn't even know where the cat was now. Of course, by the look of the open window… He was a bit worried but he checked the sidewalk and the ledge but he didn't see her.

In fact the only thing he really noted was Lance's window sill, it wasn't close but it also wasn't far. By the angle of the two windows Keith couldn't really see much of anything, just the curtains, white as clouds, a breeze pushing past them.

"Hey, uh…" Lance spoke out all of a sudden, making Keith bang his head on the window out of shock, "do you have a cat?"

"Yeah, why?"

"There's a cat on my bed." Lance said, not including that the cat was snuggled up with Blue.

"How the fuck--"

"What's the cat's name?" Lance asked as he sat on the bed, Red didn't seem to mind much but Lance also wasn't reaching out for her and trying to hold her.

"Her name is Red, I'm taking care of her for a few days."

"She's cute."

"Sure…"

"Are you trying to say she isn't? I mean look at her, she's got like a fox tail and everything. I bet she's super soft."

"I wouldn't pet--"

"Fuck! She bit me."

Keith had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing.

"Okay I see what you mean now. So like, how do I get her back to you? Do you want me to come by your apartment or?" Lance asked as he rubbed his hand. Honestly he hoped that Keith would let him, he wanted to see him and know for sure that everything that he was told and thought were true about him. He wanted so bad to know the ideals weren't just that.

"No," Keith shot out, his hands going into fists tightly and then relaxed, "no, its fine. I'm sure she'll make her way back. Just leave the window open I guess."

"You do know this cat is a living thing right? She could die making that jump between our apartments." Lance stared at the cat, even if she was a bit defensive she was cute. Lance figured that she probably had her reasons for being this cautious.

"I know, but if she's worried about it she won't do it. Cats are smart like that."

"They're also impulsive… I'll keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t do anything too reckless." Lance smiled as Red walked over his lap, dragging blue with her by the ear.

"Thanks…"

"No problem," Lance shook his head. He wanted to keep Keith talking, he swore he could hear something odd about his voice, "how was your day?"

"Tiring, I had to take the bus home while holding a cat and all her stuff."

"You don't drive?"

Keith shook his head as he went on his bed, pulling his hair out of its ponytail, "not really."

"I'd drive if car insurance wasn't so expensive," Lance sighed as he leaned back against the wall.

"You're not scared of it?"

"Not really, I was when I first learned. But now? Nah, no way, I ended up being top of class at driving school. What about you? Do you know how?"

"Yeah…"

"And you can't afford it?"

Keith let out a noise of agreement, he didn't feel like explaining it. It wasn't worth reliving the memory and feeling all the regret wash over him all over again. God he could still remember the disappointed looks on their faces. But Keith hadn't minded them so much, it was all the yelling that led into screams that then let into him storming out of the house. Doing it again, repeating the process, letting it hurt him, letting other people hurt him time and time again. Those days had always been about feeling something and anything.

"Keith?"

Keith laid still, staring at the wall and staying so quiet that he couldn't hear his own heartbeat.

Lance sighed and laid down too, "me too buddy."


	6. A Sinking Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long! The next chapter should be up sooner rather than later though!

Red had adjusted over a short few days to Keith and Lance's apartment. To Red their apartments were one in the same and she would go where she pleased, and of course if one of her boys was upset she went to them and would rub up against them. Which is what she was to Lance at the moment, he had his head down on his knees on his bed, Red squeezing between the wall and Lance's back.

Today felt heavier for some reason and he couldn't pin down why.

"Is Red over with you?" Keith grumbled as he sat up in his bed. He had fallen asleep above the covers with his clothes on again.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. She's trying to get my attention."

"Sorry if she is annoying you."

"She's not… It's kind of nice."

"To be annoyed?" Keith questioned as he reached for the half unscrewed water bottle on the fold up chair by his bed. Next to it he could see his phone, vibrating on top of his red flannel, it was another text from Shiro. Keith pretended he couldn’t really see it was him so he turned away, he would only answer if Shiro called him; otherwise it wasn’t a big deal.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter." Lance sighed as he scratched under Red's chin. She kept staring into his eyes like she knew and that she wanted Lance to just spill his guts to Keith. Lance just shook his head, putting his fingers through his hair. He was sure that no one wanted to hear his whines, after all, he was a waste of time and I hindrance. He was more trouble than what he was worth. If he even had any worth.

"Doesn't sound like it."

"Why do you care anyways?"

"Cause you seem upset. Come on, I'm not a total asshole."

"I know…" Lance hated to admit it out loud to him, especially since he like to tease him so much. If he did it as much as he usually did it would just come off wrong, or too easy to read.

"Did something happen?"

Lance shook his head as he laid down on the bed, Red curling up closer. That's what annoyed him the most, _nothing_ had happened. He just woke up and wanted to eat everything in the kitchen and continue riding the thoughts that everyone hated him. He knew it wasn't true but he had this unbearable pain in his chest. No one had reached out to him and he knew this was an irrational thing to be upset about, how could anyone know he was upset if he never talked to anyone.

The problem was he was too used to keeping it all together, he had always been the shoulder that everyone cried on.

"Lance?"

"I… I just feel shitty for some reason. It's stupid."

"Your feelings aren't stupid Lance." Keith said softly as he leaned his back against the wall. He tried to imagine how Lance's back would feel like if it was there instead of the wall. Was firm and straight? Or was it hunched over and shaking quietly like a leaf in the wind? Keith had to know, he _wanted_ to know.

Lance brought in a tight breath as he tried to keep his eyes from spilling tears. But his feelings were so tangled and pervasive thoughts stabbed at him like needles and then scrambled him further from saying anything.

_Who would care? You're an idiot. Nobody likes you, the only reason they hang out with you is because they're trying to be nice. They just talk about you behind your back when you're not there. They're all laughing at you._

"I get it if you don't want to talk to me about whatever it is you're staying silent about… But if I can help please tell me, I don't want you to feel bad about something that you can talk to me about. I know I'm just a voice beyond a wall to you but I'd like to help."

"You wouldn't get it. Everyone probably loves you, I bet you you're perfect and that no one hates you. I mean, you're not annoying or loud… Why can't I be more like you? I bet you're perfect…" He repeated, his feelings for Keith were getting mixed with his mood.

"What makes you think I'm so perfect? You barely know me." Keith let a tinge of anger come across in his voice. He was trying hard not to snap but it was hard.

"You just… you know what you're doing with your life and you don't mind being alone. I wish I could be like that, I wish I didn't need people or attention so much."

"You really don't know anything. I write because there's nothing else I know how to do and I may be alone by choice but that doesn't mean I like it. I wish just as much as anyone else that I had someone."

"Someone? Like who?"

"Like a significant other… You know someone to come home to." Keith said trying hard not to say which way he went on the spectrum. On one hand he didn't want to come out to Lance and on the other he didn't want Lance to think he was straight either. Keith couldn't help but hope there were some kind of mutual feelings between them.

Lance sighed, "relationships have always been stressful for me, I get insecure easily. Even with friendships I'm terrible, I just shut down…"

"That's just something you need to work on then, nobody's perfect."

"I know… I know, it's just hard."

"What's hard?"

"To not expect myself to be able to do something properly. I put in so much effort but I'm never good enough." Lance tried to explain but it was hard, it wasn't all of it. He was expected and raised to believe that if he only tried harder, if he only focused more, or even if he just forgot himself he would be so much better. He'd be the person he was meant to be, the best, the son that his parents always knew he was. Right now he was just a disappointment and an embarrassment.

"What is good enough though? Why aren't you good enough now?" Keith asked, he thought it had to do with the piano again but he knew this was different somehow. The way Lance's tone wavered as he spoke, going lower and lower. There was more than a lack of confidence.

Lance rubbed the back of his neck, biting his lip.

"Because you're not perfect? Because someone else is better?" Keith questioned. He had been there, with Shiro namely. Wishing back in high school that he had been the one that died and that Shiro was alive and still striving. Then when his death was all a lie Keith wished that he had lost his arm, that he had suffered instead of Shiro, "someone is always going to be better than you, there is no top of the castle. Things are always changing and to expect perfection of yourself is just going to drive you insane. But Lance you are good, you're a good person and a good pianist."

Lance's chest ached and he swallowed down his feelings, _am I good enough for you?_

"Thanks Keith."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine." It was the only answer Keith ever produced. It was almost never true but he didn't want Lance to worry about him. It wasn't worth his time, after all it wasn't like he could do anything about it.

"Are you actually?"

"You don't need to worry about me," Keith said and Lance sat up, letting Red run off.

"I want to… I want to support you if you're feeling down. I don't want this to be one-sided."

"I just… I have to see my parents today and I'm not a big fan of chit chatting."

"Why do you have to see them?"

"Because their family… It's hard to explain," Keith said though even if he had a choice about it he wouldn't see them. Unfortunately, like always, Shiro insisted they all meet up from time to time. Even though every time Keith just got upset afterward. They always gave him the worst looks when Shiro wasn't watching. A mix of concern and hatred fixed on their faces either from memory or from reality. Keith wasn't sure anymore, it had been too long since he could take any form of them reaching out to him as purely out of love.

"Sometimes I wish I didn't have a family," Lance said idly, not really thinking about what he was saying.

"What's so bad about your family?" Keith asked softly.

"… It's hard to explain." Lance said as he pet Red. His reason, he knew, wasn't valid enough to really excuse what he said. It was a selfish thought, a condemning thought that made him sink back into the mattress.

Keith checked his watch, "I should probably head out now, are you going to be fine here by yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm sure Red will keep me company. Won't you Red?"

There was a small meow of confirmation and Keith gave a slight giggle to that, "alright well I'll talk to you both later."

"Alright, be safe and try and have a good time." Lance said as he kept petting Red who was now purring under his hand.

Somehow that small comment gave Keith all he needed to push himself out the door, "I will."


	7. Whatever Happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys thanks for sticking around, if you ever want to know what I'm up to when I'm not writing or want to show me something my tumblr is wowieitsablog.tumblr.com
> 
> I'll try and get the next chapter up ASAP, happy reading!

The door slammed shut, causing Lance to sit up and for Red to scurry off a few seconds afterwards, "Keith?"

"Not now Lance." Keith's voice was stern and loud, and if Lance didn't know any better he would have thought that Keith was behind him.

Lance just listened as he heard things keep slamming and shifting at a high velocity. It was making him clam up on his bed as he remembered times from before here when he was alone at home with just his parents. Those days had been always up or down, there was never a calm day, there was always something.

It made Lance tip toe around his house, which was hard when you took into account who Lance was and that his house had hardwood floors. So Lance would stay out of trouble and most of all, out of the way. If he wasn't in the way then he wasn't a bother and if he wasn't a bother... people were happy.

His room, even though it was painted a nice even beige, was dark and quite empty. There were no posters on the walls and on the desk there were a stack of school books and notebooks; neatly next to them were a stack of copies of applications his older sister had sent off before him and next to them the rejection and acceptance letters that had been put into a yellow folder and alphabetized. They had been for a frame of reference, to show Lance what it would take to get somewhere that meant anything to anyone.

The sounds of the pan sizzling with vegetables echoed in the distance, pop music scratching through old speakers at near top volume. Lance could just hear the heavy voices, arguing lightly and then piling higher and higher until the lyrics of the song meshed with them. The oven started beeping then, "just shut up, shut up! Let me cook dinner and _take care_ of this family."

"There you go, making _me_ the bad guy. Why am I always the bad guy? Huh, it's not like I make our kids work to put food on the table that they don't even eat half the time, let alone make them pay for college!"

"I told you to shut up." Her voice is more hushed now, like she knows someone is listening, "you go one more second about bills and how spoiled your children must be and I will slap you with this spatula."

The volume on the stereo lowers to an even sound, the DJ going on about mattresses now like he knew the fight had ended. Lance's mother is sighing heavily as a pair of boots pass Lance's open door. There was no way he was going to be able to lift his head from the table but he had to check on his mom.

She was back to cooking, rolling her shoulders as she stood in front of the stove, uniform still on.

"Ma I can take over from here, you go rest." Lance said as he came up closer to his mom.

"It's fine, you have homework and piano practice."

"I don't mind, I could use a break anyways."

"You want a break from work to do more work?" Lance's mother gave her son the look, the one with the small smile as she kept herself from a youthful giggle that would close her blue eyes into small crescent moons.

"You know I like cooking."

"Well I like knowing you're getting all your work done. You got to keep it up for the Universities you know."

"You know ma… I don't have to go to University, I can take a gap year or go to community…"

"I just want you to do what you want to do. No matter what that is."

"Ma… You guys are already paying for Izzie's college, not to mentions Jules soccer and ballet lessons, and don't even get me started on all the shit you guys are spending on me for applications and other senior stuff."

"Language."

"Do you hear my point though? I don't want to make you and dad fight if you guys need the money, I can get a job. Colleges love part time jobs."

"…Alright, if you want to you can take up a part time job. But _only_ part time, you hear me? I don't want you falling behind and then saving up all this money for nothing. And you'll still have to do your usual chores around the house."

"I know, I know."

"And Lance."

"Yeah mama?"

"Don't tell your father or give him any money. This is a silent subject." His mother said as she lightly tapped her nose with her index finger.

"Not another word about it."

Yet after all that work and putting away all that money he didn't end up using it for college. In fact he just kept saving and his mother insisted on paying for everything. He didn't even realize his mother had picked up extra hours back then.

Every time he looked back, every time he realized something new. He hated that, how he had missed the details back then. He couldn't let anything happen like that again.

"Lance? Are you still there?" Keith's voice was surprisingly soft, even a bit watery.

"Yeah buddy, what's up? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Keith said as Red pushed her way under his arm. Purring as she rubbed her head against Keith's cheek, "not this instant at least."

Lance took in a deep breath, noting Keith's light sniffs. What had happened? Did someone hurt him? Lance's stomach spun with nerves as he wondered, "would me playing for you cheer you up?"

Keith nodded, half not realizing that Lance couldn't see him, "please."

"Alright, now just relax. Sink your soul into the notes, they'll protect you." Lance told him as he put up the music for a song he had been practicing from a movie.

Keith closed his eyes and let himself sail off with the notes, keeping his anxieties and fears far from his mind. He just wanted to think about now, how Lance was talking to him so sweetly and comforting him. Even though it was just words he felt warm, even though it was just music notes he felt safe. Keith let himself cry, quiet at first and then let himself get louder as he felt his thoughts burn at his heart. He was so frustrated, so angry, he couldn't believe how much it still hurt.

How many times did he have to apologize for everything? He didn't mean to fuck up but he was so lonely and so out of place back then…They would never understand what he went through.

Then again, he knew, he would never understand what they had gone through. They had almost lost both of their sons at one time or another. The feelings they all had about it were still fresh and were as valid as they were when they had been formed. Truth was all their apologies had been spiteful or lacked genuine feeling, in fact, Shiro had been the only one who apologized and forgave everyone; but he also forgave and forgot too easily.

Keith always hated that because he knew it wasn't because Shiro was afraid to fight. Shiro just wanted all of them to be happy, no matter what.

Keith groaned as he pushed himself up from his mattress, pushing his black hair out of his face. His whole apartment was dark even though when he had gotten home it was still sunny. He rubbed his eyes, clearing crust from them as he realized he must have fallen asleep.

"Lance?" His voice cracked a bit from the dryness of his throat.

"Hey you're awake. Are you feeling better?"

Lance's tone, it was bright and warm; it almost made Keith smile.

"A bit."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lance sat at the piano bench, holding his tea with both hands as he leaned back and looked at the painting.

"It's no big deal, don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it? Come on Keith, how am I not supposed to worry? You came home in a fit of anger and then started crying. If you don't want to talk about it that's fine but don't tell me it's no big deal."

Keith went silent, he didn't know what to tell him, if he should tell him.

"Keith I care about you, if I can talk to you, you can talk to me. I won't judge you."

"How do you care about me?" Keith asked softly, biting his lip after.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you care about me as a friend or as a neighbor or… What is it? I mean you've never seen me, how do you know that you aren't just romanticizing me or what I do for you. What we _both_ do for each other."

"Are you trying to say you like me?"

"I… Maybe, I'm not sure."

"Keith," Lance stopped for a moment and Keith was sure rejection would follow, "I think we have been romanticizing each other, but I like what we have. Whatever it is I want to keep it going, I want to be close with you. I want to be there for you and vice versa."

"What does that mean though?" Keith asked, frustration pushing through. He wanted answers and he wasn't getting them, just more running around, just more chasing.

"I don't know, I mean at the end of the day there's still a wall here and a sense of anonymity. I guess it's like long distance but I'm still right here. There's just nothing physical. I… Keith I would like there to be more between us," Lance squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't bear to look at the wall anymore.

"Like what? Do you want to meet?" Keith asked, half scared now.

"No, not yet. I wouldn't be able to focus then and I'd probably just end up overwhelming you. Maybe we could just like test it out, we could be romantic in little ways for now and just let whatever happens happen?"

"Is this your way of asking me to be your boyfriend?" Keith teased, a smile overriding all his thoughts.

"Yeah, is that your way of saying 'yeah I'll be your boyfriend'?"

"Yeah Lance, I guess I'll be your boyfriend."

"I can't believe we got a cat before we even started dating. We're just doing everything out of order."

Keith laughed, "tell me about it, I still don't even know what you look like."

"Hey, um would you mind exchanging numbers? You know so I can text you while I'm at school and stuff if I want too."

"…Only if you promise that you we won't send each other pictures of ourselves." Keith told him, truth was he was still scared. He didn't know what would happen if he wasn't what Lance thought he was.

"Promise, now give me your digits so I can text my new hot bf."


End file.
